Failures of the Heart
by MSCSIFANGSR
Summary: CSI/Quincy, M.E. crossover. The mysterious of the death of the first woman who broke Grissom's heart. This is a true WIP and updates may come about slowly. GSR completely.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Failures of the Heart  
AUTHOR: MSCSIFANGSR  
FANDOM(S)/SHIP(S): CSI and Quincy, ME/GSR, Grissom/OFC and Quincy/Emily  
RATING: Mature, there will be a bit of smut here and there.  
DISCLAIMER: CSI is the property of people like Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Zuiker, and companies like CBS and Paramount; Quincy, ME is owned by NBC, Universal Studios, and Glen A. Larson Productions among others. I don't own them, but I do really like playing with them, especially Grissom and I've loved Quincy since I was a kid.  
NOTES: This is a cross-over fic and probably a bit AU, but hey, isn't that what fanfic is all about? My beta and I think it's pretty good. Most of the reoccurring characters from both series will appear in this story at some point.  
WARNING: No Grissom's were physically assaulted in the making of this fic. Also this is a true WIP and updates may come about slowly.  
SPOILERS: Quincy, ME roughly Season 4 and beyond. CSI roughly Season 6 or 7 only without TMK.  
BETA: the incomparable and pragmatic JellybeanChiChi.  
THANKS: To my friends Doris Mock and BrickWall for all of their help and insight in the development of this story.  


* * *

The breeze from the Pacific Ocean flitted through the lapel and the cuffs of his black funeral suit. Grissom looked to the strikingly beautiful woman standing beside him and saw the light gust had affected her in the same manner, ruffling her appearance. Sara brushed her hand through her hair, attempting to calm her brown mane from salt-riddled, mini-whirlwind, and then she pressed the large sandstone-colored sunglasses further up to the bridge of her nose. He held her left hand tight, cradled within his own. He squeezed it slightly and smiled when she returned the gesture. He was glad she was standing beside him, in his time of need.

They stood, huddled close together amid a small crowd of about thirty listening as an Episcopalian minister spoke quietly, reciting the Lord's Prayer. The warm spring day in Southern California was beautiful as the high white cirrus clouds bordered with a few black edges blew in quickly from the west. A small tear escaped Grissom's eye as he watched the coffin containing the body of the woman who had broken his heart twenty-five years ago slowing being lowered into the non-consecrated ground.

Grissom didn't know more than half of the people gathered around the grave site. He looked around, more out of habit from working various crime scenes than anything else, but a certain amount of curiosity had him scanning the mourners, especially for one man. Fortunately, he didn't see the person and he was thankful for the absence of the man. And it made him very uneasy because the person not at the funeral was the man Diane Middleton had married while still dating him.

The ones he knew were his former boss, Dr. Quincy and his wife; Sam Fujiyama, the usually happy Asian man who'd taught Grissom how to deal with the normally gruff Dr. Quincy; Danny Tovo, the former employer of the woman they were burying; and a handful of the old crowd who hung out at Danny's Pub in Marina Del Rey. Next to grave, slightly away from the others stood a tall, young man in his mid-twenties, who stoically brushed away his own tears. He wore almost the same suit as did Grissom, except their ties were different colors: the young man's a deep burgundy and his a deep blue almost the color of his eyes, that Sara had given him the previous Christmas. Grissom suspected the remaining people were friends or co-workers.

Grissom decided it was best not to think any more of the man who had stolen his first love, instead turning his thoughts to when he'd learned of her death and of his own hearts failure to move on after the woman left him.

* * *

Gilbert Grissom had been stunned when he'd received the call while he toiled over his virtual insurmountable paperwork while on shift three nights ago at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Quincy's gravelly voice in his ear immediately brought to mind the years he had spent as a coroner in Los Angeles County. Grissom's nerves were on attention almost subconsciously waiting for his former boss to order him to do something in which he'd rather not. Whether it be another look at an already autopsied body or running another test to determine what had caused the death of someone, Quincy always pushed Grissom harder to find out the truth.

But instead, Quincy quietly, in his unassuming way, spoke of the first woman who had captured Gil Grissom's heart. When Quincy told him that Diane Middleton's body had been found of an apparent suicide only two hours previous, Grissom lost his grip on the phone. The receiver landed with a loud 'clank' on his desk and his quivering hand covered his opened-mouthed stare. Moments passed in this static manner before he was aware of his high heart rate and he could hear the faraway sound of Quincy practically shouting his name. But it was the concerned sound of Emily Quincy's voice that jarred him back into the present.

"Gil, you're scaring Quincy. Gil, he's an old man, give him a break, pick up the phone." And after a moment of silence, Grissom heard her voice through the phone, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he automatically replied, when he picked the phone back up. His mind was filled with images of his younger self and the former love of his life hanging out at the beach, of the first time they had made love, of the day she left him for another man.

"Are you sure, Gil?" Emily's voice was full of concern.

"Yes, ma'am. Could you put Quince back on the phone?" He heard the unremarkable sound of a hand being placed over the receiver, then he listened intently as Emily muffled something to Quincy. Then the old medical examiner's voice filled his ear.

"That son of a bitch was released from prison only a month ago, Gil. I know in my bones he killed her."

"Where's the evidence, old man?" Gil softly chuckled in spite of the gravity of the situation.

"You gotta come help me, son. We'll pin the bastard up against the wall so fast, he'll never know what hit him."

Grissom considered Quincy's words; there was only one man he could have been referring to: Tony Correro, the man who had stolen his girlfriend from him all those years ago.

He no longer felt the sting of the break-up since he'd allowed Sara Sidle to break into his personal life and to help him recover his heart to allow him to share it again, because Diane had been a major stumbling block in the Grissom Sara Romance. Tony Correro had been a soldier in the Los Angeles Family who had worked his way up to _Caporegime,_ meaning he achieved the rank of captain leading various other made men. Tony was a knee-breaker who turned into a vicious cold-blooded killer when ordered by his superiors. And the former love of Grissom's life had married the mobster, instead of the lowly coroner that he had been.

"I'll be there later this afternoon. I've got to move a few things around, but I'll be there, Quince."

"I see you still hold a grudge against the bastard who stole Diane from you. Are you still in love with her, Gil, even after all these years?"

Grissom didn't answer for a long time. "No, not anymore. I finally let her go a few years ago when I allowed another woman into my heart."

Quincy laughed in his ear. "You haven't sent us a wedding invitation, yet. Or did you run off to one of those chapels of love there in Vegas?"

"I haven't asked her yet." Grissom cleared his throat, seeing Nick and Greg standing in his door way, awaiting assignments. Nick nodded to him and walked away, but Greg lingered. "I'll see you this afternoon. I need to get to work."

"Gil, I am sorry."

"For what, boss?" Both men chuckled over the long, unused nickname. "You didn't kill her."

"No, but I introduced her to the prick all those years ago. I'm sorry."

"Quincy, goodbye. Oh, and I'll see if my soon-to-be-wife will be able to accompany me. She's a CSI."

Greg Sanders was still standing in Grissom's doorway as he politely pretended he wasn't eavesdropping. The young man's eyes enlarged when he heard affirmation of something he'd long suspected but never had been confirmed. Grissom looked up, realized his faux pas waved Greg into the room.

"That would only be logical, son. See you later, then Gil." Quincy ended the call.

Grissom hung up the phone and looked at the former lab rat. "Anything you overhear in my office is unsubstantiated."

"I get it, boss." Greg smiled. "Listen, if there's someone who you call 'boss', then what does that make me?"

"A pain." Grissom deadpanned. He switched gears for a moment. "Is Catherine in, yet?"

"Yeah, I think I saw her in the AV lab with Archie going over video from the Brian Stinson murder case."

"Good, she's going to need you and the other guys to help her over the next few days. She will be in charge while Sara and I go out of town for a few days for a funeral for a friend."

Greg shifted uncomfortably in the rigid seat, "So, you and Sara...?"

"If I hear a word of gossip over this matter spread around the lab, I hold you personally responsible."

"She couldn't have picked better...well, unless she picked me." Greg said under his breath as he quickly left the office, closing the door softly behind him.

Grissom took a deep breath and pulled out his cell phone. He text messaged Sara, "Come by the office ASAP. I need you."

He sat alone for several minutes as more memories from the past ran through his mind like a slide show.

Quincy performing an autopsy on a body as he watched; Lt. Frank Monahan's legendary arguments with Quincy over the cause of death of a body; learning to drink Scotch with the guys from the coroner's office; the first time he'd seen the tall, skinny, no-nonsense blonde waitress at Danny's Pub as she pretended she hadn't noticed him. Yet, all the while, she stared at him with a Mona Lisa like smile, while she cleaned a table from several customers. They'd left a huge mess, then stiffed her, not leaving her a tip despite the many trips she'd made to the table with refills of their beer. Diane's ubiquitous smile was the undoing of the twenty-two-year-old Gil Grissom. He knew the moment she smiled at him that he was in love. And apparently it was reciprocated.

It took months before the two were officially dating, but their flirting in the interim caused the young Grissom many a embarrassing moment at work. When the others would tease him about her, he promptly blushed. It was finally Diane who'd asked the shy coroner out on a date and for two years, they had shared what he believed was the love of a lifetime. When she left him for Tony, Grissom left Los Angeles within a matter of days, leaving for the University of Chicago to begin his doctorate in entomology and later to begin his work as a forensic scientist under the tutelage of Phillip Gerard in Minneapolis.

He'd thought of Diane more times than was emotionally necessary as the years passed in a relative haze of crime scenes and dead bodies and tried to avoid long term relationships with women out of fear of being betrayed until the beautiful brunette with a ponytail stole his heart at a conference at Berkley.

As if the very thought of her made her materialize, Sara Sidle slid into his office and quietly shut the door behind her. She eased around his desk and when he looked up into her eyes, she immediately took him into her arms for an embrace that steadied the man who owned her heart and body.

"What's up?" She whispered into his ear. "I got your text."

"I have to leave after shift to go to LA for a few days," his voice quiet, almost as low as her whisper.

Sara continued whispering, although she didn't know why, she just knew it was the right thing to do. "Why?"

"I need to help my old boss with a case and go to a funeral."

"Phillip Gerard is in LA?" Sara asked slightly incredulously.

"No, Dr. Quincy formerly of the LA county coroner's office."

"He needs a CSI from Vegas to investigate a murder--who died? Someone you know?"

"Diane Middleton."

The name struck fear in Sara's heart. She knew the woman's name and the story of her betrayal of Grissom well.

Grissom had told her of the time he'd been with Diane and even relayed the information that Diane was the main reason he'd never actively pursued her. He wasn't going to place himself willingly in a situation where his heart could be so easily hurt, again. But time and Sara Sidle had changed his opinion of love. After Nick Stokes' kidnapping, Grissom finally realized his mistake. He needed Sara in his life more than ever and he could not deny himself the pleasure of loving another person any longer.

Sara took a deep breath and released him from her embrace, "When will you be back?"

"Probably in several days."

"I'll miss you."

Grissom pulled her back into his arms, "You won't."

Sara scrunched up her face, inquiring with her eyes: _What do you mean?_

Grissom smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips. Sara was startled because he'd never shown any physical affection for her at the lab before then. "I want you to go with me. I've already cleared it with your boss."

"You're my boss."

"Exactly. Catherine will fill in for me and the guys can handle it without us for a few days." He looked down into her brown eyes again, before placing another kiss on her lips. "I really need you with me on this trip."

"Anything for you," she murmured as they kissed one last time before they left the room headed to the break room so Grissom could hand out assignments for the evening.

* * *

Grissom looked at the woman still holding his hand as the other mourners began throwing clumps of dirt and flowers on Diane's coffin as it lay in state in the six-foot hole. He squeezed Sara's hand again and she returned the gesture. He graciously allowed her to join the processional to say their final goodbyes to the woman who had been the first to steal his heart. His hand lingered on Sara's low back as the dirt from her hand listlessly fell onto the dark cherry casket. He took a moment to steady his own nerves before dropping the red rose onto the coffin.

Sara turned and cupped his bearded face in a gesture of love before they were approached by the Doctors Quincy.

Dr. Emily Hanover Quincy and Dr. R. Quincy were a striking older couple. Emily still wore her hair the same way Grissom remembered from the early 1980's and Quincy looked the same except for the slightly shrunken body of one who had advanced into a high geriatric age, the man was nearing 85, if Grissom calculated correctly.

Sara had unashamedly asked Quincy upon first meeting him, what the 'R' stood for, in which he'd flirtatiously replied, "Anything you want it to be." Sara Sidle looked the man over for a few moments then stated, "Reuben." In which the man replied, "You're the first person that's ever figured that out on the first guess. Gil, my boy, you have yourself a great little investigator here." In which Grissom laughingly replied, "You're named after a sandwich? No wonder you didn't want anyone to know."

The high level clouds were dramatically darkening in the distance and they heard a bit of rumbling from the thunder located somewhere over the Pacific.

Quincy's arm was placed carelessly around Emily's waist when he spoke quietly to Grissom, "The son of a bitch at least had the decency not to show up for the funeral. Of that I'm grateful."

"Quincy!" Emily's slightly high pitched voice broke through the stillness of the moment. "Don't use that kind of language here."

Grissom and Sara smiled at the woman who'd tamed the unflappable, highly-principled former Medical Examiner and veteran who had served in the U.S. Navy during the Korean conflict and also in Vietnam.

Sara hadn't over the course of the past few days been able to put a finger on who the woman reminded her of, but it finally hit her like a ton of bricks: Catherine Willows' mother, Lilly Flynn. The resemblance was remarkable but the two women were worlds apart in their lifestyles. All Sara knew for sure, was that she rather liked the older woman.

"Don't speak too soon, Quince." Grissom saw the man who he hated the most in the world embrace the young man who'd stood by himself mournfully weeping through-out the service. "Tony made it after all."

"Ahh, shit. Now, we have to be nice to the murdering son-of-bitch because we're here at the graveside. I wish we had evidence to prove he killed Diane." Quincy mumbled before turning in the opposite direction and grabbing Emily's hand. "Gil, you and Sara come over to the house later. We're leaving before I say something I shouldn't."

Sara spoke to Grissom as the Quincy's left the cemetery, "So, that's him?"

Grissom nodded his head without answering her out-loud.

"He's very handsome considering he is a 'murdering son of a bitch' who stole the love of your life." Grissom looked at Sara incredulously before she continued, "He does look a lot like you, without your beard. A goatee would look nice on you, should you be interested in knowing my opinion." Sara smiled, then threw a bombshell at her lover, "Even their son looks a good bit like you. Are you sure he's not yours?"

Grissom was speechless for a few moments, wondering if in fact the young man, Christopher Correro was indeed his child. He had heard in a round about way that Diane and Tony had a child, but he never had given any consideration to the fact the boy could have been his, such was his betrayal by Diane. The boy was certainly of the right age if perhaps Diane had been pregnant when she'd married Correro. He didn't notice the man roughly his same age approaching them from behind when the notorious gangster suddenly tapped him on the shoulder, startling him out of his musings.

"Well, if it isn't the dashing Gilbert Grissom. And who is this lovely creature beside you?" Anthony Correro was obliviously captivated by Sara Sidle, who was indeed quite lovely wearing a sleeveless short black dress, with matching kitten heels and a black obsidian stone necklace around her long graceful neck. Sara had perched her sunglasses on top of her head to keep her hair from flying away in the now chilly whipping wind.

His steely blue eyes bore into her with an intensity that made Sara blush.

"Tony." Grissom grudgingly admitted, "My condolences on the loss of your ex-wife. She will be missed by those who loved her. This is Sara Sidle, my girlfriend."

"Thank you for your warm words." The tall man, with slightly graying brown hair paused for a moment, smiled and continued, "Well, well, well the mighty Gilbert Grissom has found love again after all these years. Congratulations to the two of you." Tony smiled salaciously at Sara. "If you ever need a real man, call me." With that he handed her his business card, which read, _Anthony Correro, Mergers and Acquisitions_ in bold raised lettering followed by two telephone numbers then gracefully and chivalrously bowed to her. Then he walked away from the couple, never looking back before pausing with his son, draping an arm over the young man's shoulders.

"God knows, if I ever wanted to kill a man for just being, he would be the one." Grissom muttered as he lead Sara, with his hand firmly planted on the small of her back, toward their rented Lexus.

Another sea-scented breeze filled the air as they reached the car. "It feels like it's gonna rain, soon," Sara said, as Grissom opened the passenger door for her before walking to the driver's side.

They drove to the Quincy's residence without speaking, but Sara was silently worried about Gil, scared that he was too vested in the situation to help solve the crime of who killed Diane Middleton Correro.

Grissom turned on the windshield wipers when the sudden storm began, he was again lost in memories from the past.

* * *

End of Chapter One. To be continued in Chapter Two.

As always reviews are appreciated.

* * *

A/N: To those of you who are interested: Anita Gillette the woman who portrays 'Lilly Flynn' in CSI is also the same person who played 'Dr. Emily Hanover-Quincy' in the later episodes of Quincy, ME. And imagine my original character of Anthony Correro as WP in the movie, "The Kingdom of the Blind": Slimy and sexy. And maybe Christopher Correro as WP in TLADILA. The character of 'Diane' was played by Diane Markoff in Quincy, ME. She was a waitress at Danny's Pub in the original series; there's not a lot of information about her character, so I made up quite a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

See Chapter One for Disclaimers and Other Notes.

A/N: Remember, this is a WIP and updates will come, but very slowly. I only write this story when inspiration hits and unfortunately, that's not happened too often. I have no idea where I'm going with this story, but stick around for the ride; I promise it'll be worth it and that I will finish it. This chapter contains mature couples engaging in sexual situations. There is smut in this chapter.

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

Grissom suddenly awoke from the nightmare, breathing hard and gasping for air. He was surprised he couldn't feel the warmth of Sara beside him in the darkness. He then reached for the bedside lamp and to his chagrin it wasn't there; instead he inadvertently knocked over something that made a shattering noise when it hit the floor.

Gil groaned.

_Images of Diane Middleton's nude, dead body laying on a cold steel slab in the old morgue where he'd once worked closely with Quincy; the 'Y' incision on her marring what had once been perfect in his eyes. Her body was pale, bluish in appearance; her former blonde hair was streaked with gray; her heart, still beating, in his dream, was pumping, vigorously, while laying on the coroner's scale. Quincy was dressed in pale green scrubs as he and Diane discussed the terms of her death._

"_I didn't kill myself," Diane whispered in the coldness of the morgue. "I wanted to be buried in concreated ground."_

"_I know that punk, bastard Tony killed you and I'm going to make him pay," Quincy voiced his sentiments to the dearly departed. "He's a son of a bitch and it's my fault you're dead."_

_Diane long sat on the plinth, her small intestines spilled out over her thighs. She looked Sara, who had appeared out of nowhere, in the eye and said, "No," she raised a skeletal finger, then pointed at Sara. "She killed me in his heart. It's her fault I'm dead."_

_Grissom shuttered and realized he and Tony were the same person. _

Grissom shook his head to clear the images from his head. He finally realized he wasn't at home, but was in Quincy's guest room and all his was wearing were a pair of old boxers which Sara always thought he looked cute in, because they were so short. Since he'd been awake for a little while, his eyes had gotten used to the darkness and he was able to make out shapes in the room even without his glasses.

He finally spotted Sara curled up in Quincy's old captain's chair that stood sentry over the window's view of the Pacific. A well worn afghan hung haphazardly over her long lethal body; arms and legs at odd angles. He thought of a long straight line curled into a circle and that was pretty much the sight that greeted him when he finally located his glasses on the bedside table.

The chair was one he immediately recognized: it had been on Quincy's old yacht. His old boss had sold the boat years ago just before he and Emily had married; she had said he needed to put down some roots instead of her having to occasionally scrap barnacles from his keel.

Sara was beautiful; looking as young and innocent as a young child. He loved watching her sleep; it had become somewhat of an obsession for him; sometimes when he couldn't sleep, he concentrated on mapping her body in his mind.

He eased into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. When his bare feet hit the hard cold hardwood floor, he hissed. Sara stirred at the sound. She stretched her body in ways his had never been able and when her feet hit the floor:

"Damn, that's cold," she muttered almost to herself, but he heard he well enough.

"I see we're on the same wavelength," he said quietly into the night.

She looked sharply at the bed and the man sitting there. "I heard you when burst the flower vase, I thought maybe you were having a nightmare, so I kept quiet. I didn't realize you were awake, too. I got up while ago when I couldn't sleep, so I sat here watching the waves. I wish we lived on the coast, Gil. It's so soothing to my soul."

Grissom took a deep breath and exhaled before replying. At first he considered her statement to be a bit of a flight of fancy; but he could tell she was serious. "Sara, when all is said and done, I promise you, that we will."

Sara stood up abruptly and kind of hopped, skipped over the floor. She was wearing a matching yellow teddy and boy short set that was almost loose on her thin frame. She slid into the bed, sitting next to him.

"Griss, you don't have to make promises to me that you can't keep." He started to speak, but she placed a finger over his mouth. "I love you, that's never gonna change; but please don't fill me up with empty promises. We said that we'd take our relationship day by day. That's enough for me right now." She lowered her hand.

"What if it's not enough for me?" He asked in a quiet tone.

"Gil, please..."

"No, Sara, I'm serious. We're not going to be CSI's forever. Why can't we commit to an unknown future and say, without doubt or reservation, that you, Sara Sidle, and I, Gil Grissom, will have a house on the beach and live our lives together, happily and joyfully till the end of our days."

"That's deep," she chuckled. "Kinda sounds like you're asking me to marry you."

"I am."

"No."

"Sara!" Grissom slid off of the bed onto his knees on the floor, he turned his body to hers in a dramatic pose: on his knees with hands outstretched to her. "Sara, please. I love you more than anyone, even myself. Please say you'll marry me."

She pulled away from him. "I don't want to get married."

Grissom was dejected, "To me or is it the whole principle you're against?"

Sara smiled, "The whole rigamarole...engagement rings, parties, flowers, weddings, kids, permanence, ownership, things falling apart, the drinking, the fights..."

"We're not your parents."

"I know, but I just can't bring myself to contemplate marriage." She took his upturned face into both her hands, cupping his face, bringing it close to hers. "I love you and only you, forever."

He closed his eyes. "You are my everything."

Their lips met in a tentative kiss.

"Rest assured, I will ask again," he smiled, taking her lips again with increased passion.

"Of that I have no doubt." Her fingers found their way to Grissom's waist and pulled him back up onto the bed. He was sitting as close as their bodies would allow. She smiled the image he made, shirtless and only in tight, short boxers. "You know, dear, I really love it when you wear these."

"Why is that?" He asked deliberately.

"If you move just right, like when you are walking or shifted just right in bed, then the head of your cock peeks out," she smirked.

Grissom covered his hands over his crotch and moaned. "Come on, let's go back to sleep Sara." He lifted the covers and allowed her to slip in between.

As they spooned, comfortable in the others arms, Grissom's fingers idly traced invisible patterns over and over under the hem of her yellow camisole. The backs of his nails just grazing against her skin. He thought he was assuring her of continued presence in her life, just touching her softly without serious intent of anything else.

A soft shiver from her shoulders told him that the touch left an unintended effect on her body, and he just couldn't leave the opportunity unexplored. Grissom continued his soft advances, gradually letting his fingers travel farther up her slightly rounded tummy, slowly nearing the underside of Sara's unencumbered breasts. A soft little moan escaped her lips as he barely touched the underside of one breast, slowly tracing a line along its underside.

Not to be outdone, Sara's hand slowly slid beneath his body, along the inner edge of his thigh, finally reaching the hem of his short shorts. The soft press of her breast against his fingers accompanied by the nearness of her fingers along the upper region of his thigh was having an immediate effect on him. Sara sighed when noticed the unmistakable rise of his member as she continued the investigation under the loose fabric of his shorts.

His fingers continued their trek north, until finally reaching the tip of one peak, circled it and adeptly pinched it lightly between thumb and forefinger. A slight gasp escaped her lips, which was immediately accompanied by the rapid rise in the blood content of his target. The soft crinkling of skin in the surrounding area let him know that his attentions were having their desired effect.

Grissom's hand suddenly moved in a different direction, slowly sliding back along its original path to her tummy, and then continued slowly gliding over the waistband of her boyshorts. He reached around and firmly placed his hand between her legs, spreading his fingers and thus her legs. The heat against the inside of his palm, was unmistakable. The softness of her lips pushing against his fingers was palpable. He rolled her erotic lips back and forth against each other, feeling the area become wetter as more and more of her natural lubricant found its mark.

Sara's hand reached higher beneath the short stretch of fabric, and tickled the head of his now straining cock, She squeezed the tip, and felt it reverberate with a new energy. The looseness of his shorts enabled her to completely slide her hand along the highest part of his thigh, until she had completely grasped his package, encircling his balls as well as the now inflamed shaft. The leg of the shorts had risen to the point to where when he looked down, he saw that she'd fully exposed his engorged tool, and was eyeing it ravenously.

His fingers, eager to make contact with the softest of her flesh, quickly darted inside her. He was rewarded by the feeling of her flesh rolling against his fingers as they plied their way into the smooth wet lips. His sudden attack on Sara's pussy was not in vain. He immediately felt the unmistakable heat of her mouth as she lowered it onto his hardened cock, lathering it with the anticipatory juices of her mouth.

He eagerly arched his hand against the inside of Sara's shorts, sliding them down her long, luxurious legs as she lifted her hips to assist him. Sara turned her body over towards his, impatient to resume her oral ministrations, but yearning at the same time for his fingers to get return to the mark. Nearly on her back, with her legs splayed apart to allow full access for his hand, she turned her head and stretched out her tongue, lapping at the soft flesh between the top of his thigh and the adjacent package.

Grissom's fingers resumed their game, tweaking her lips against each other, basking in the feel of how they slid against each other under his expert guidance. Reaching down, he crooked one finger against the very base of her sexual lips, and slowly, ever so slowly, dragged it upwards, through the slippery shiny wet walls of her pussy. Her legs jerked slightly as he tormented the tender opening making a small circles around the entrance, teasing her with the anticipation of invasion.

Sara had resumed her own attack on his turgid member with such voracity he feared that she may bring him to the point of eruption well before other needs were satisfied. She had managed to wrap her hand around his balls as she slowly massaging them, as though to coax the burning load they held. He couldn't withstand the situation any longer, and he shifted slightly, pulling out of her oral embrace to make her aware that he needed to change positions.

Reluctantly, she disengaged, and watched as his bobbing cock waved as it sprang from the suction of her lovely mouth. He moved to the end of the bed, and grabbed her legs. With Sara's open legs in front of him, it was almost too much for him to bear. Kneeling at the end of the bed, he slid her deeply tanned legs over his muscular shoulders and without hesitation started licking the inner portion of her thighs adjacent the softness of tunnel of warmth.

His tongue dallied against the outer edges of her, gently sucking and pulling on her gently. His tongue was able to slide in between, back and forth in the pink channel, teasing again over that tight little hole that wanted so dearly to be occupied by his heft.

He glanced upward seeking out her brown eyes to assure him of his mission and he smiled as he saw her eyes closed in rapture and her fingers creeping down into the same area where his mouth had just been; her fingers rubbed and slipped into the upper folds of her tight pussy. His cock leap at the sight then he moved his mouth slowly upward, he felt her hands move to the top of his head, guiding him even farther, coaxing, pulling, begging him to clasp her clit between his lips.

Grissom was more than happy to comply with her wishes. He dragged his tongue to the apex. Her clit was swollen to nearly the size of a pencil eraser, engorged and flaming red with desire. His lips ensnared her bud. Her hips bucked spasmodically as the beginnings of her first orgasm rolled forward from the very depths of her. Sara clenched his head with her thighs as her heels pummeled into his back, arching herself against his face. He sucked her clit and squeezed her delicious ass with both hands while he held her tight against him. Sara's brown eyes became little slits as her head flopped from side to side against the pillows as a slow, contented groan escaped from her.

Although certainly not needing any additional attention to stay at full arousal, his hand stroked his cock, slowly standing between her outstretched legs, Grissom looked down and watched with eager anticipation as she tried to quiet the pulsations which continued to consume her body. Finally gathering her senses, Sara glanced downward, between her outstretched legs, and saw Grissom 's manipulations.

Looking up into his eyes in earnest, she whispered, "Come here, come inside me. Let me feel you inside me."

He smiled, knowing that he couldn't last much longer, once inside her walls. he nodded, and ever so slowly, leaned forward, sliding the length and firmness of his engorged cock inside her, inch by torturous inch into between the wet, shiny lips of her recently sated pussy.

Almost immediately, while basking in her heat, Gil felt his balls tighten within their sac, preparing for the eruption they would send forward to quench the fires within. He stopped, trying to compose myself, wanting, willing the moment to last, forever if possible.

Brown eyes pleaded with blues one, and in a low voice, she whispered, "Do it for me, baby. Do it."

The room was enveloped in an air of sex, it was so thick, you could have cut it with a knife. Grissom gazed down at his pounding cock against the wetness of Sara's gaping vagina. The head was inflamed and nearly purple with engorged blood, he began to slide into her slower, longer strokes, nearly sliding out of her at times before slamming hard back down into her, balls deep.

Sara's eyes began to roll back again in anticipation of another impending orgasm. His shaft eager to spew its molten load into her. And her walls began to tighten, spasming against him.

A slow growl started to escape from his lips. She answered his growl as her own urgency was nearing explosive proportions.

"Now Baby, NOW."

Spasm after spasm wracked through his body as Grissom looked down at the beautiful brunette beneath him as she shuttered again and again, coming down from her own high. They soon slipped into a deep slumber. When he awoke the next morning, he knew his nightmare had been correct. Sara had totally replaced Diane in his heart. He loved Sara more than life and if their love should ever fail, so would his heart.

* * *

"Oiowwwwwwwwwww!"

Emily's explosion was muffled into the pillow. She didn't want to wake their guests in the next bedroom, who had only recently become quiet, but it was entirely Grissom and Sara's fault. She and Quincy had been awoken by the sound of a flower vase shattering and then by the couple's cries of passion and soon the two of them shared in a passion all their own.

"I'm gonna come." Quincy whispered into her ear, and after his words, he blew softly into her ear. That was her trigger. At just the right moment, he would blow into her ear and she was gone. The predictability of the phenomenon never failed to amaze him.

Quincy collapsed against his wife shortly afterward. They'd been married now for twenty seven years, but every time still felt like the first. Emily soon was asleep in his arms and as he attempted to drift off to sleep, he realized he and Grissom would need more than a little luck and expertise to solve the murder of Diane Middleton and capture her murderer.

* * *

End of Chapter Two. To be continued in Chapter Three.

As always, reviews are appreciated.


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